


The Life of Viktor Trevelyan- Pre-Conclave Backstory

by vcook10



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Pre-Conclave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vcook10/pseuds/vcook10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Backstory of my OC Viktor Trevelyan. A story about his life leading up to the Conclave and the start of Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life of Viktor Trevelyan- Pre-Conclave Backstory

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first story I had ever written. Please don't mind any spelling or grammatical errors. x Hope you enjoy!

'It's too hot to be out here.'  
Viktor followed his mother through the estate garden, wiping sweat from his brow. It was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was smoldering. Pink and purple flowers fell from the blushing trees onto the garden path. The air smelled faintly of lilacs.  
'Fresh air is important, Viky. All you do is sit inside and read. How is that healthy for a growing boy?'  
'Nothing is better than reading', he thought , but kept quiet, picking up a loose stone and throwing it across the lawn.  
He knew his mother meant well, but he hated the heat. Most of his days were spent day dreaming about moving to Ferelden and the cooler climate. He sighed , and sat next to his mother, placing his head on her shoulder so she would stroke it.  
'For a smart kid, you sure don't know how to enjoy yourself. Come, let's feed the fish.' They knelt down, side by side, throwing the food his mother brought, onto the surface of the pond. The greedy Koi bumped into each other, trying to reach the top first.  
'How's school? Your tutor told me you only want to read about Ferelden.' Her eyes were soft but he knew better; his mother hated Fereldan.  
'I hate it here. I want to be in the cold. Maybe I'll move to the Frostback Mountains and live with the Avaars.' He stormed off towards the estate. He regretted his words immediately but he was tired of pretending he was happy. Shaking his head, he looked back towards his mother, sitting by herself. Little did he know this would be the start of one of the worst days of his life.  
***  
'Fix your tie, Viktor. We can't have you looking like a slob.'  
It had been a week since his father passed away, yet time seemed to stand still. Parades of relatives stopped by to pay their respects with home-made cooking and wet kisses. He loathed it.  
'Stop picking your nose and stand up straight! You're a noble, lad.. not some commoner.' He glared at the small, bulging man. He disliked his Uncle Vin for only ever stopping by to beg his father for money.  
'Where's mother?' He hadn't seen his mother in 3 days and her room was being guarded by Silvia, their maid, who hadn't left her side since the incident.  
'She's resting, don't bother her.'  
Viktor scoffed and headed to his room, the only place he felt comfortable in their large, lonely estate.  
Books lined the walls of his massive, quiet bedroom. If someone didn't know better they could mistake it for a library. Although he was only 12 years old, Viktor was smarter than most adults. He studied anything and everything he could in the search of knowledge. He wanted to be a scholar when he came of age, but now all he wanted to do was take care of his mother. 'Father shouldn't have even gone to Kirkwall.' It felt good to say it out loud.

Viktor's father left for Kirkwall, two weeks prior, for his Aunt's wedding. On the way home, his carriage was attacked by assassins. The same day Viktor had yelled at his mother... the last day they spoke. 

Viktor grabbed an open book on his desk and threw it as hard as he could at a picture of his father on the wall, missing by more than a foot. 'I'm a terrible son..' he sobbed. 

A loud knock woke Viktor with a start. What time was it? When did he fall asleep? 

'H.. ello?' 

He rubbed his eyes trying to remember where he was.

'What are you doing in here, boy? Get up and wash your face, we're leaving.' Vin slammed the door behind himself.

He scrambled out of bed and tried to rub the wrinkles out of his tie. It was cold in his room and this was the only time he could remember it ever bothering him. He jogged out of his room, five minutes later, down the narrow passageway that led to the front door. 

Something felt wrong. 

'Uncle?' 

There was no answer. 

'UNCLE?' 

Something was definitely wrong; the house was never this cold. Viktor ran to his mother's room stopping only when he saw the icicles hanging from the ceiling. 

'Stay back, Viktor! Don't come any closer!' Silvia was banging on the ice wall that stood in front of her. 'Run child! Get the Templars!'

Viktor stood stunned for what felt like an eternity, until he saw it- his Uncle Vin's form encased in ice. He tried to scream, but bile followed, falling messily on the floor. 

He ran. He ran until his legs felt like the jelly that lined the tables in their dining room. Breathless and frightened, he found a dark alley and hid. 

***

The next four years flew by. Viktor went from relative's house to relative's house until the age of 16. He frequently asked about his mother, but no one would tell him what happened. 

He inherited his father's fortune and couldn't get out of the Free Marches fast enough. Taking as much coin as he could carry, he bought a horse and rode south to Ferelden, to a new life. 

He spent the following ten years studying under an experienced archer in Redcliffe. Although he was seventy-four, Samuel was quick on his feet, teaching Viktor everything he knew. Training was gruelling, but Viktor loved every second of it. After Samuel's death, Viktor took over his small shop, becoming a bowyer and living peacefully, until he received the letter:

'Dear Viky,

My beautiful, beautiful boy. I have tried to contact you for so long but this is the first time I'm sure it will reach you. How long has it been now? 14 years? I miss you everyday and long to touch your face. I need to explain to you what happened.

I'm a mage, Viktor. I never had any talent for casting spells, only healing. That's why you never got hurt when you were small. When your father died, I was so grief stricken, I think it moved something inside of me. The night you ran away.. that night, your uncle came into my bedroom demanding your father's estate, saying it was his birth-right. I couldn't control myself, Viktor- I'm so very sorry.. 

I must keep this short, the Templar that promised to get this to you has to leave this very moment. I'm going to be at the Conclave gathering at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in only a weeks time. Please, Viktor. I need to see you. This is our chance to be together again.

I love you, my son'

It was a long trek from Redcliffe to the Temple. The ground was worn in paths, showing that a great number of people had travelled this way recently. The wind blew Viktor's hair and a cool breeze kissed his face. Bubbles of anxiety burst inside him, burning his throat. 

The next five days were spent riding and camping- with the occasional break for meals. Viktor loathed sleeping in the dirt but sadly there weren't many Inns this side of Ferelden. He didn't sleep well most nights, wondering what he could possibly say to the woman who called him son. 

He arrived late afternoon. A sea of people swam towards the Temple on the horizon, armour glistening in the sun. There were little tables set out along the path, merchants selling their wares to the unrelenting crowd. People laughed, some talked quietly in groups but most were silent, waiting for the Conclave to begin. 

It didn't take long before he saw her, blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked exactly as he remembered, except for a few new wrinkles gathered around her eyes. She was giggling with a dark haired man, making exaggerated gestures with her hands. Viktor watched, trying to gain enough courage to talk to her. 

Her soft, blue eyes found him in the crowd. The smile that grew on her face was infectious. She ran to him with open arms and they collided into a hug, her slender figure picking him up off the ground and into a spin. Tears flooded their cheeks as they clung to each other. When they finally parted, it was his mother who spoke first.

'I was afraid I wouldn't recognise you, but I shouldn't have worried - I could never forget your face.' They hugged again before she pulled him to a secluded spot near-by. 'Please, tell me what you have been doing all these years.' She smiled, but her eyes were full of grief. He also felt the pain.

'Aunt Patrice took me in, six months later, I moved in with Uncle Fredrick. He kicked me out once he realised I didn't get father's estate until I turned 16. After that, Cousin Jacob took me in for a year until he passed away from food poisoning.'

'He did like exotic cheeses.' 

'He sure did.. He offered me one once, it smelled of cooked cabbage. I don't even know how that's possible.' She laughed and it sent chills down his spine. 

'After Jacob, I spent the next 2 years with Great Aunt Marie. Most days were spent in the kitchen, teaching me how to make bread.. did you know she owned 3 cows? She got up every morning and milked them herself. Near the end, she forgot who I was.'

'Where did you go then?' She placed her head on his shoulder like he used to do. He placed his hand on her forehead, stroking slowly. 

'I went back to the estate, gathered what I could, bought a horse and headed south.' He paused turning his face away. The mention of Ferelden always hurt his mother and he didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes. She sat up and pulled his face towards hers. 

'You always loved Ferelden. When you were only two, you saw a picture of a Mabari hound in an old book. You begged and begged for us to get you one, but they're hard to come by in the Free Marches, not to mention that they are said to choose their owner. You were heart broken and didn't come out of your room for almost a week. After you emerged, your father took you to the market and bought you a rat. You named him Bari and took him everywhere you went.' 

He studied her face, trying to take in everything to remember later. She smelled of lilacs and vanilla, reminding him of their garden back home. 'What happened to the rat?' He tried to sound casual.

'He got sick. I tried to heal him, but he was too far gone.' She placed her head back on his shoulder. Her hair was tickling his nose, but he didn't care. 'What did you do once you got to Ferelden?' 

'I travelled for a while, eventually making it to Redcliffe. The first day I arrived, I met a man named Samuel. He was struggling to hold a big box full of tree limbs, so I helped him carry it back to his shop.' He paused and laughed.

'What's so funny?' 

Viktor shook his head, 'I never left. From that day on, I became his apprentice. He taught me to be an archer. Even at seventy-four, he moved quick as lightning, shooting targets a hundred paces away. You would have liked him, mother.' 

They sat this way, chatting about the past, until the dark haired man from before came over, extending his hand to Viktor. 'Hello Viktor, it's nice to finally meet you.' His handshake was firm and sweaty. 

Viktor bowed his head, looking to his mother. 'Oh, I'm sorry. This is Baldwin, the Templar that agreed to deliver my letter.' She blushed from ear to ear, trying not to make eye contact with Baldwin. 

'Your mother has told me a lot about you.' 

'Only good things I hope. I'm happy Mother has had you looking out for her.'

There were loud screams coming from inside the Temple. People began running towards them, knocking down tables and benches along the way.

'Baldwin, Take mother and find somewhere to hide. I'm going to go see if I can help.' He grabbed his bow and quiver, running to the Temple steps. People were everywhere, bumping into each other as they tried to get away. 

He made it inside, trying to find what everyone was running from. Lightning hit the ceiling, sending shock waves through the halls. Someone was pointing a staff in his face. Viktor grabbed his bow and shot the man in the eye. He ran.

'Someone help me!' Viktor took a deep breath and opened the large double doors leading into a small rotunda. The Divine was lifted off the ground, a horrible creature drawing her energy into a strange, glowing orb.

'What's going on here?' He panicked not knowing what else to say. The Divine, taking advantage of the distraction, smacked the orb out of the creatures hand. It rolled towards Viktor and he picked it up. It felt like liquid fire was racing through his veins. He tried to scream but nothing would come out. The creature ran towards him, furious. There was a flash. 

He landed with a thud outside the ruined temple. In front on him, not twenty paces away, his mothers charred remains lay. Vomit crept up his throat but he passed out instead. The glistening of his mother's pearl necklace was the last thing he saw.


End file.
